Hippie-ocrisy...
Meet Carl. He is 22 years old, six feet tall, 170lbs, a vegetarian, and a student at a state college. Today is his birthday.
07:00 A.M.: Still sleeping, of course
08:32 A.M.: I open an eye, and focus on the clock. Damn it, I slept through my 8AM class. What a hangover. Looks like I won’t make my 9:30 either.
10:27 A.M.: I crawl out of bed, stumble to the bathroom, and take a leak. I finish, making sure I don’t flush because toilets use 1.6 gallons of water every time you press that polluting little silver handle! I bet George Bush flushes his toilet. What a jerk.
10:51 A.M.: After a 23-minute shower, I spend a few moments staring at a refrigerator full of leftovers. I opt for a tofu and cage-free, farm-fresh egg omelet. I like to spend the $6.50 per dozen eggs so the chickens get to poop outside. I’m a vegetarian because meat is murder and bad for the environment, but I just couldn’t find it in myself to give up eggs. They’re so yummy!
11:03 A.M.: I finish about half of my omelet, wrap up the other half and stick it in the fridge next to my beet soup and avocado and artichoke dip. Though I rarely eat leftovers, I like to save all my food because, hey, there are starving people in China.
11:15 A.M.: After reading the New York Times over my organic-herbal-zinger-bourbon-chipotle tea, I discovered the disturbing statistic that since George Bush was elected president, the National Average Temperature of Coffee (NATC) has been rising to near-scalding levels. I guess I’ll have to make my “Stop Coffee Warming” poster for next week’s protest.
11:52 A.M.: Even though I am a strong believer in recycling, majoring in Environmental Planning, and about to walk right past the recycling dumpster, I ignore the bagged recyclables that have been sitting next to the door for three days. I make my way down to the bus stop listening to my bootleg Grateful Dead tape on my Walkman. Though my father earns $150,000 per year, my mother makes roughly $75,000 a year, and I have, without a job, $7,000 in the bank, I refuse to listen to an iPod. Just because I have 150 shares of Apple stock, why should I give those thieving corporate bastards any of my money? Maybe tomorrow I’ll give the money that I’ve saved on clothes over the years (I haven’t bought a article of clothing since middle school) to the poor.
12:34 P.M.: Well, looks like my 12:30 Environmental Conservation class was cancelled – my professor never showed up. Now that I think of it, I remember seeing him down at the Mill last night drinking microbrews. He’s got it figured out, man. He doesn’t give in to the evil beer corporations, like Budweiser and Coors. He only drinks Blue Moon.
12:51 P.M.: Before I enter the coffee shop on the corner, I witness a pig arresting a 15 year-old kid for shoplifting from a clothing store. F***in’ pigs, man. That store makes too much money as it is.
12:54 P.M.: My friend, Kiara, is pouring coffee inside the shop. When I ask her how she’s doing, she says she isn’t well. Ever since she dropped out of college, she couldn’t be on her parents’ health insurance plan. And since the economy is so bad, she was forced to work at this coffee shop. Now she can’t afford healthcare. I mean, what the hell? Just because college wasn’t for her, why should she have to suffer without healthcare? Gotta hate Republicans!
01:18 P.M.: As I’m walking back to the bus stop, I notice a car with two bumper stickers that read “Annoy a liberal: Work hard and be happy” and “Support Our Troops.” I spit on the car.
02:03 P.M.: I arrive back at my apartment after walking from downtown and discover my ultra-conservative, racist, fat, bigot of a roommate eating leftover meatloaf in the living room, reading Sports Illustrated. What a murderer. He wishes me a happy birthday. Oh yeah! It’s my birthday. I forgot.
02:12 P.M.: I retire to my room, light some incense, and lay down to take a nap.
Meet Steve. He is 22 years old, six feet five inches tall, 250lbs, not a vegetarian, and a student at a state college. Today is not his birthday.
06:50 A.M.: I curse my alarm as it wakes me up. I’m tired, but I’ve got an 8AM. It’s time for a shower.
07:15 A.M.: I throw a couple of eggs in the frying pan and pour a glass of orange juice. There was a great sale at Wal*Mart yesterday; I got two-dozen eggs for $1.50. Money has always been tight while I’ve been in school.
07:33 A.M.: I start to walk to class. It saves gas, keeps me off the crowded bus, and the cool air helps to wake me up. I’ve got some Brad Paisley playing on my iPod. True, the music player was a little expensive, but it’s a fantastic product. Those folks at Apple are great at what they do.
08:00 A.M.: My day of classes begins. I have four in a row, which feels like four hundred, but I’ve only got a couple of semesters until I graduate, and then I won’t have to worry about this nonsense they call homework ever again.
01:30 P.M.: My professor decided to let us out of class a little early. I’m starving. I head home, walking past Burger King, dreaming of food in the refrigerator.
01:48 P.M.: Before I get home, I stop in the grocery store. I remember that it’s Carl’s birthday, and even though he’s a dirty stinkin’ hippie, I try to think of something cheap and vegetarian to make for his birthday. I pick up some marshmallows for Rice Crispy Treats.
01:59 P.M.: While my leftover meatloaf is in the microwave, I walk into the bathroom to grab my Sports Illustrated. I notice a book of Carl’s in there. I read the summary and gather that it’s about finding someone to blame for world deforestation. I notice that not one page is printed on recycled paper. Beeeeeeep! Food’s ready!
02:03 A.M.: Carl walks in as I’m reading and eating. He mumbles some half-serious comment about how the apartment smells like burning flesh. I wish him a happy birthday. We chat for a few minutes before he goes into his room. It’s not long before I smell his “Nirvana” scented incense. God damn, he stinks.
02:50 P.M.: I decide to take the dog for a walk before I get to my homework.
04:14 P.M.: The dog and I get back from our walk. I wash my hands and start to melt some butter for the Rice Crispy Treats. Carl creeps out of his room, sleepy-eyed. I open the bag of marshmallows and offer him one. He declines, saying that marshmallows have an ingredient called gelatin, which comes from animals. I shrug, open the refrigerator, and have to move his eggs out of the way to replace the butter.
04:14 P.M.: The Rice Crispy Treats are cooling as Carl’s girlfriend, Gwen, arrives. As she is also a vegetarian, she announces the items that she brought with her as she places them on the counter: Soymilk, organic cheese, mushrooms, carrots, and mangoes, a six-pack of anti-establishment Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, Redwood Creek merlot, and fairly-traded chocolate cake mix. I glanced at her grocery receipt: $46.
04:15 P.M.: I ask Gwen if she would like a marshmallow. She declines and lectures me, as Carl did, about the murderous properties of the candy. I change the subject and ask how she came to choose Redwood Creek wine. I receive yet another lecture about how large wine companies, like Gallo, mistreat and underpay their workers.
04:18 P.M.: As she pours herself a hefty glass of wine, I inform Gwen that Gallo owns Redwood Creek. I am then on the receiving end of a dirty look that is half-hidden by a raised wine glass. I step outside to get some fresh air and remember that my Rice Crispy Treats (that will probably go to waste) are cooling on the balcony. I bring them inside.
04:19 P.M.: Gwen observes my plate, then poses like a dog begging for a piece of meat. I remind her that the treats have marshmallows in them, and she briefly hesitates. “Oh what the hell. I can make an exception for yumminess every once in a while!” She grabs three and gobbles them like a bear with fresh salmon. I retire to my room to finish some schoolwork.
06:40 P.M.: Gwen enters my room to give me a sneak peak of her birthday gift to Carl. It’s a 100% cowhide leather jacket…
the.end
A balanced perspective
Thursday, February 2, 2006
